Chiaroscuro
by Sanjuku
Summary: Masaomi reflects later that their bodies join together as easily as a mix of shadow and light-a lifelike chiaroscuro that doesn't fade into dark quite as easily as it does in paintings. KidaxMikado; kink meme fill.


Masaomi doesn't know how the sudden thought entered his mind; it wasn't there and then it was, fading in like smooth static and all he's sure of is that his gaze is now inexplicably drawn to the way Mikado's lips quiver silently around a problem in his mathematics. He's been aware of the fact that mouthing words helps Mikado think and process them for, well...forever, if their childhood counts for anything, but somehow...

The thought that he wants to kiss a boy, his best friend, _Mikado_, is alien and incomprehensible, and so Masaomi chooses the obvious solution: he doesn't think about it, not even when he reaches to trail his fingers over the velvet skin of Mikado's cheek (earning a sharp inhale and a tensing of shoulders), not even when bluebell eyes turn to stare at him quizzically, not even when those same eyes slide half closed in anticipation, because the flush of feeling has hit Mikado, too, and all he knows is that he wants Masaomi to kiss him.

The blonde does so without thinking, and the caress of lips sliding gently over his own is not unpleasant in the slightest.

Mikado's fingers trail up Masaomi's unclothed arm (it's hot in Ikebukuro this time of year, and he's abandoned the white hoodie for a whiter T-shirt), massaging lightning into Masaomi's senses without thunder, and they both savor this, _this_, whatever this is. It's gentle and unhurried and _perfect_, and they press kisses back-and-forth, give-and-take, until it grows to be too much and, as only the closest of spirits might do, they break apart and rise in unison, locking eyes and _not thinking_, just _doing_as Masaomi tugs Mikado by the wrist to the small bed that sits in the corner; they find quickly that it's still big enough for both of them if Masaomi straddles Mikado's waist, heartbeat to heartbeat, breath fanning out against each others' mouths as the waves of the ocean.

Masaomi dips to continue the contact of their lips. It's Mikado, surprisingly, that tentatively chooses to coax Masaomi's tongue to life as well until it's stroking along the warm walls of the dark-haired teen's mouth, slow and calm and simply surrounding him with Mikado, Mikado, Mikado, and as he shifts his body the other shivers beneath him and draws in a sharp gasp of air. It takes a moment to realize that he's just accidentally rubbed their groins together and that Mikado _liked_ it, and Masaomi does it again on purpose just to get the reaction. Mikado inhales shallowly while Masaomi just _sighs_, because he doesn't remember the last time he felt so good, and _oh, fuck,_Mikado's pushing his hips back against him now.

He holds out on the urge to just dry-hump his best friend into oblivion, because he knows it would feel so much better later. Mikado seems to agree as he pulls lightly at the fabric of Masaomi's jeans.

The blonde pushes his hands under Mikado's shirt as Mikado works at the zipper and button to his pants, and his breath catches as the clothing is pushed down to his knees while he pets the soft, soft parts of Mikado's upper half, which is unfair to say because _every_part is soft, soft, soft. Masaomi can't get enough and trails lower until he's curling his fingers leisurely over the skin of Mikado's stomach, and the close proximity his touch has to something else has Mikado panting, reeling, reaching for Masaomi in any way he can.

Carefully Masaomi curves his fingers over the zipper to Mikado's dark jeans, and shakes his own unneeded pants off of his legs. Mikado's jeans and undergarments join the forming mess on the floor in Masaomi's patient impatience, and the teen's own boxers are discarded soon thereafter.

Bottom halves are bare and exposed; neither is concerned because neither is _thinking_ still, and Masaomi knows little about sex like this but he knows just enough to grant him the confidence to present three fingers to Mikado's mouth-there has been an unspoken consensus all along that he'll take charge this time around. Mikado rolls his tongue over the digits experimentally, not as well educated about this as he'd like to be, but as he coats Masaomi's fingers in saliva (earning a dark expression and stuttering breaths), he reflects that they can teach each other as well as any other source.

He isn't sure, a second later, that he wants to take part in this learning as Masaomi slides a finger past Mikado's virginal entrance, and he hadn't even noticed him getting there but he sure as heck notices him now-and then Masaomi has the adventurous curiosity to twist the finger _just_ so and Mikado scrabbles for stability and finds only bedsheets as his prostate is jabbed for the first time in his life, and Masaomi repeats the motion and it feels so good it _hurts_. Mikado doesn't appreciate the idea of ripping the cloth sheets but he worries he might have no choice now, because Masaomi is adding another finger and, and-

He's somehow still being so _gentle_.

Mikado's breathing pattern turns even more strained with the addition of a third finger; Masaomi has managed to brush against that spot inside him again but never hit it completely as he first had, but Mikado is somehow fine with that, as long as the blonde keeps _looking_at him like that.

There's a brief moment of instinctive panic and excitement as Masaomi removes his fingers and lines the head of his arousal up with Mikado's twinging hole, and no words are exchanged and no sounds uttered as he finally pushes himself inside the dizzying warmth, tight and unwelcoming around him-but, while Mikado's body might not be embracing Masaomi, his mind is, and Mikado closes his eyes and gasps as Masaomi bends to breath shakily against his ear, as moist as his mouth would have been, and they sit for a moment feeling fulfilled and surreal and obscure.

Masaomi reflects later that their bodies join together as easily as a mix of shadow and light-a lifelike chiaroscuro that doesn't fade into dark quite as easily as it does in paintings.

:::::

_**Masaomi/Mikado**__- Soft skin, gentleness, Delayed gratification, ears, bed sheets, and a recent for me; Breath (as a caress; hitching or ragged; indrawn breath or gasps; sighs)._

Masaomi and Mikado having sex, in Mikado's apartment, without saying a word to one another. They don't talk about it they don't think about it they just do it!


End file.
